Aut Veritas Mendaciis
by fabrikate08
Summary: The boy who lived finds himself in another adventure, though this one is far from dangerous. To his physical health, at least; love can be emotionally distressing. Letters, battles, and a love hate relationship await in this story.
1. The Beginning

**Hello all! To start off this new account, I have decided a Harry Potter fanfiction would be the best way to go. I am just using a short story idea from a website, since I'm an uncreative little prat. Oh well.**

**Anyway, I would like to start out by saying that I do not own any of these characters, and the basic story line is not mine either. What deviates from the main story idea, however, is my original work.**

**One more thing: Although this will be set during their sixth year, I will not be following the events of the book. So, I suppose this story is some sort of AU.**

**Thank you, and happy reading.**

—

Harry glanced down, the starchy feeling of the envelope sending a small smile to his face. He read once more the words on the front, the ink having to began to smear from being handled so often. This letter was one of the only ones he had ever received in his life, and it was special to him. Not as special as the Hogwarts letter that came every late July, of course, but pretty close. It was an invitation sent by Fred and George, inviting him over for a week or two. While he was there, he would be attending a small party the two were holding—with begrudging permission from Mrs. Weasley. He was excited because the letter spoke of who else had been invited: Hermione, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Lee Jordan, and a bunch of the twins friends who Harry did not know well. This was the first real party he would have ever attended to this date, since the Dursleys (Dudley especially) made it difficult for Harry to keep any friends for longer than a day or two.

He tried to keep his cool, though. There was no way that Aunt Petunia would allow him to go if he acted up (even if he had perfect behavior, it would still be a toss up). Not only that, but if he paraded around with his letter, or even showed the smallest bit of excitement, Dudley would take the letter and rip it up and probably hit Harry a few times for good measure. Yes, it would just be best if he were to stay quiet about it and ask Aunt Petunia at the right time. Even if she said no, he knew that the Weasleys would come and rescue him. He just hoped that, if it came to that, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't get onto the boys _too_ much. He would still prefer that Aunt Petunia just said yes, though. It'd make his life so much easier.

He set the letter back down on his dresser and slowly meandered towards the open window, looking out at the darkening sky. It was around seven o'clock, and he had been banned from dinner for this week for dropping his plate on the floor yesterday and causing a mess. It was conveniently forgotten by Vernon, while his vein was popping out of his forehead and his mustache was twitching, that it was due to his precious boy tripping Harry, which caused him to drop the plate. But Harry didn't mind this punishment or having to clean up the mess all that much—he got to be around the Dursleys even less now, and he still had the opportunity to sneak into the kitchen late at night for food when his hunger got too unbearable. He had grown exceptionally sneaky due to punishments like this, and he had yet to decide if this was a good or bad thing.

His eyes slowly traveled from the window to the calendar hanging beside Hedwig's cage. The snowy owl was out hunting currently, so Harry kept the window open as he leaned against the window sill and smiled at the calendar. He was counting down the days to the party, and he noted with pleasure that it was less than two weeks away. He couldn't wait to get out of this house for a few weeks, and then a whole year. Hogwarts was his real home, and he couldn't wait to get back.

—

It was almost a week later when Harry first started feeling himself growing weary with the burden of having to wait. His punishment was over, so he headed downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. The smell of Aunt Petunia's casserole was pungent, and Harry had to breathe out of his mouth if he wanted to be in the same room as the dish. He slid into his usual seat, glancing at Dudley and Uncle Vernon, who were discussing Dudley's plans for the next day. They seemed to be arguing about something, which was a strange enough sight on its own. Maybe Dudley would throw one of his fits; Harry had started to find those entertaining, especially knowing how fake they were.

"I'm hanging out with Piers tomorrow though," Dudley protested, frowning. His chin had started to do that weird crumpling thing that Harry thought looked like Aunt Petunia's mushy oatmeal.

"Now Dudley, we know that your friends are important to you. Hell, that's how you get through life—having connections. But your aunt Marge is coming into town tomorrow for her birthday, and we are going to have a celebration," Vernon explained, stroking his mustache. He was starting to grow visibly agitated.

"Piers is much more interesting than Marge!" Dudley exclaimed, which made his mother make a sound that sounded like an angry hen.

"Duddy-kins, this isn't up for discussion. Piers can come over to visit and attend the party, if you want," she said, compromising. She smiled, setting the casserole on the table and mussing Dudley's hair. Harry inwardly groaned; he didn't want to be a punching bag for the two again.

Dudley began to whine as Uncle Vernon got himself a large helping of casserole. However, when Aunt Petunia promised Dudley some dessert to calm him, he relaxed and nodded. He was served by his mother, who then gave Harry a dirty look as she set down the spatula. He knew that look. It said, _don't get too much dinner; we want Dudley to get to eat as much as his "growing body" needs._ In Harry's opinion, the only direction Dudley's body was growing was wider. But he simply dropped his gaze and got a small portion of the toxicity known as green bean casserole. He mentally toasted to his last day for a while that he'd go without a black eye and a few bruises, and to the fact that the party at the Weasley's was only a few days away.

—

"Up! Get up! You still have cleaning to do!"

Aunt Petunia's shrill voice greeted Harry, who had fallen asleep scrubbing the floors. He had been woken up constantly last night because Dudley had been whining to his parents about how he couldn't find a video game he wanted to play. Dudley did not have a curfew anymore, being that the two were sixteen years old now. Well, Harry would be at the end of this month, but he digressed. The floor had been pretty comfortable, but with Aunt Petunia's foot nudging his legs _ever so gently_, he found it hard to sleep.

With a yawn, he sat up and fixed his glasses, which had fallen slightly askew by the kicking. He grabbed the sponge and began to scrub once more, which seemed to satisfy Aunt Petunia enough that she moved on, leaving him alone for now. Harry couldn't help but frown in frustration, since he just knew that Dudley was out having fun bullying people with Piers and the rest of their gang while he was trapped here. In a cliche sense, he felt like Cinderella. Dudley was, of course, the ugly stepsister. He had the ugly part down well; he still looked like a pig in a wig, except now a lot scarier with his hormonal aggression.

The day seemed to pass in that lazy way that time tends to do when you were dreading an event. All Harry could think about all day was the party, and he could say earnestly that he was not looking forward to it. He still needed to find the perfect time to ask Aunt Petunia about going to the Weasley's, but he found it increasingly more difficult to come up with exactly how to phrase it well enough to effectively persuade her. There was a reason he was a wizard and not a lawyer—he was about as persuasive as a duck.

Marge had stopped by and was visiting with Vernon in the drawing room, the two sharing some gin and tonic as they reminisced on old times. How typical. Harry wouldn't even entertain the idea of asking Vernon, especially when he was around his sister and drinking. He would be a dangerous man. Luckily, Harry avoided cleaning the drawing room, which is where Petunia was straightening everything up instead. He finished his cleaning right as soon as Dudley came back to the house with his group.

He ducked into the hallway to avoid them as well, but Dudley caught him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back. A smirk was resting on Dudley's face, and Harry was immediately reminded of a fatter, stupider version of Malfoy. Disgusting, truly.

"And where do you think you're going, runt? We missed you today," Dudley said as his friends began to snicker.

"Can't say the feeling is mutual," Harry said, pulling away. Dudley struggled to understand what that meant, confused. Harry took this opportunity to hurry off, causing Piers (or rat-face, so called by Harry, who had described him this way many times to Hermione and Ron) to merely say snarky comments at Harry's retreating figure. Piers eventually gave up, finding this to be fruitless.

"It's probably best not to have a conflict right now, Dudley," Piers pointed out, turning to his friend. "Your mother would be upset."

Dudley nodded and sighed, leading his group away. "What does 'mutual' mean?"

Harry was glad he avoided an altercation. He could always count on his cousin's stupidity to help him in the most surprising of ways. A fight would put a damper on his plans to ask Aunt Petunia anyway, who had just opened the back door and was ushering everyone to the backyard. Harry gave her a nervous smile as he passed, trying to ease her stress and get her in a good mood. However, it had the opposite effect, because she just grabbed his arm and held him back from entering the warm summer night with the others. When Dudley passed, he immaturely stuck out his tongue. He hurried out at the warning glance from his mother, however.

"What'd you do wrong?" she asked as she shut the door. Just the two of them were in the now rather quiet house. It was disconcerting, especially how it seemed that she could not look him in the eye.

"I didn't do anything. You just…seem stressed," Harry said. He could tell by the look on her face that she did not believe him, but she decided not to focus on that too much. There were much more important things, such as her cake in the oven.

"No matter then. Head outside," she muttered, letting go of him and opening the door again. He nodded but hung back for a moment, watching her head to the oven to pull out her cake and set it on the counter to cool.

"May I ask you a question?"

She paused and turned, looking at him with a severe look on that long face of hers. "You know how we feel about questions."

"I was just wondering something," Harry said, deciding to just say it as quickly as possible. Like ripping off a bandage, only more hurtful and more likely to leave a scar. "You see, a few weeks ago I got a letter in the mail from my friends and they were wondering if I could visit them for a while. They'd come get me and everything—"

"No. Now go outside," she said, watching with slight pleasure the crushing disappointment showing on Harry's face. The boy turned and headed outside, seeing with distaste that Marge was not entirely sober at this point and had already began commenting negatively on his appearance, as usual. Starting, also as usual, with his hair.

Harry knew he would be going anyway, but it still hurt much she seemed to like disappointing him. Why had he been stuck with such awful people? What had he done? He knew he hadn't done anything, since he had been left on their porch when he was a very young child. However, he didn't understand it. He knew he probably never would.

His mind wandered back to the calendar once more, reminding himself that he had three days until he was set to leave. That's all that mattered now, getting there. He was ready for his journey to begin.

—

**And there it is, my first chapter. I understand that this chapter probably was not all that interesting and, honestly, was probably not very organized, but this is progress. This is the first time I have written this much in over two years. That's one of my goals I accomplished with this chapter, and I think that that is pretty great.**

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you all will stick around to see what I have in store for this story. I also hope you all enjoyed this, and I welcome any and all comments.**

**Have a nice day/night.**


	2. The Rescue

**Glad to see you all again~ I only got four reads, which is totally better than what I had expected. I hope this story picks up, though. I'm excited for what I could do with this story.**

**Again, I would like to start out by saying that I do not own any of these characters, and the basic story line is not mine either. What deviates from the main story idea, however, is my original work.**

**Thank you, and happy reading.**

—

Harry groaned as the sunlight streaming through his still undrawn curtains awoke him. The warmth of the morning sun caressed his cheeks, however, so it was already much better than being woken by Aunt Petunia. Now that he thought about it, though, that was strange—why was Petunia not here, screeching at him?

She had not changed since the party, and he hadn't really expected her to. She was sadistic in a way he wouldn't ever understand, though if he had to guess, it would be because of his mother and their past. He didn't know much about it, and he had to admit that it made him curious. What made Petunia hate her own sister so much? Surely his mother hadn't harmed her?

He sighed and slowly sat up, his hair a mess as usual. He grabbed his glasses from the dresser and pushed them on. The calendar hanging by the wiry cage came into focus, a large circle around today's date. This was wonderful! The day had finally arrived! He had sent a letter by owl to Ron, explaining Aunt Petunia's answer (and a few more choice words that were nothing short of vulgarity). Ron had wrote back, telling Harry not to worry, and that they would come and get him. Harry didn't care if he had to leave like he had second year—he was going, whether the Dursleys liked it or not.

The day was young and he could hear his family bustling downstairs, so he tossed his blanket behind him and moved towards the door. He soon found himself in the kitchen, the brightness once again streaming in through the window. It was very bright, almost painful. He despised summer for more than one reason, one of those reasons being that it was always _so _bright.

"Morning," he mumbled tiredly, though none of them paid much notice. Typical.

"We are heading out to London for the day," Uncle Vernon said nonchalantly, not looking out from behind his newspaper.

"Am I going?"

He knew that was a stupid question, since he hardly ever went, but he always found himself asking fruitlessly.

"Ms. Figg shall be coming over around noon. She has a doctor's appointment; she tripped over one of those blasted cats again," Vernon continued, as if Harry had not spoken at all. "You will be alone for the morning."

Harry grinned to himself. This was perfect! Dudley, however, noticed and did not like the thought of his cousin having any happiness. It was like it was being stolen from Dudley's own stock of happiness.

"Why are you grinning, Harry?" he asked, lifting an extra-greasy slice of bacon to his mouth. He couldn't have looked more unhappy; even the bacon was not helping, like usual.

"No reason."

"That's right. There is no reason for you to be smiling. You are not to watch television or use Dudley's computer. You are to stay in your room and read or look out the window. Only, don't do that too often; we don't want anyone to know that you are home," Aunt Petunia chastised, moving to sit in her place next to Vernon. "If we see that you left your room and messed with anything, you will go without dinner."

Harry sighed and nodded, knowing he was just biding his time for a while.

—

Harry was up in his room when he heard the door downstairs close, and he looked at the clock. Right on time. He had sent an owl to Ron, telling him to swing by about nine am. It was eight thirty, which gave Harry time to finish packing his bag and gather his things.

He moved around his room, packing everything into his large trunk. He had to move some of his textbooks from the year before out and under his bed; he had forgotten to empty his trunk since the end of school, it seemed.

Was that…? The pungent smell gave Harry his answer as he lifted an old apple core out of his trunk and into the wastebasket in his room. He shuddered involuntarily, but went back to work.

He sat on his bed when he finished, glancing at the clock and smiling. Ten minutes until nine. A scratching at the window alerted him, and he stood, moving to the window and letting his snowy owl inside. He petted her head, a slightly disgusted expression on his face when he saw the small mouse trapped in her talons.

"…Thank you, Hedwig," he said, though he simply tossed it out the window when Hedwig turned to enter her cage. She would understand.

He decided to just spend the rest of his time waiting, sitting at the edge of his bed and resting his head on his arm, which was draped across the window sill. Any moment now, and he would see—

It suddenly occurred to him that a flying car might not be the best thing to be seen in broad daylight, and frowned nervously. Surely they had some sort of cloaking device on the car? Or else they would make a spectacle—

A honking of a car horn sounded outside, and Harry glanced out from his window to see the car that the Weasleys usually flew around in parked against his curb, idling. Ron stuck his head out the window, squinting to see if the address was right. He noticed Harry peeking out the window and waved, making Harry stir.

The raven haired boy grabbed his trunk and his owl's cage before noisily clunking down the stairs and out the front door. He had left a note for Ms. Figg explaining, and for her to call them at around noon and explain that she couldn't come in. That way she could not get in trouble.

They wouldn't care enough to actually report him missing, anyway—they let him leave in the middle of the night to get on the Knight bus, after all—but he also left them a note on the kitchen table giving his location (vague, so they couldn't come get him) and when he would return.

He had had too much time to figure this out.

Ron stepped out to help him put his trunk in the back as the twins waved out at him.

"Hey Harry!" the two chimed, making Harry smile. It was good to see people who actually liked being around him.

"Here, let's put it… there we go," Ron huffed and loaded the trunk up before shutting the lid and heading around to the other side of the car. Harry slid into the backseat from that side, setting Hedwig in the middle.

"Do you know how long it took to get here?" Fred asked, huffing a bit and acting irritated. "I hope you appreciate this Harry!"

Harry looked sheepish, which just made the twins burst out laughing.

"Guys, don't be rude," Ron said, though he chuckled slightly. The idea of anyone in the Weasley family being rude to Harry was extremely laughable.

Harry relaxed and rolled his eyes some. "How long?" He was genuinely curious.

"Well, we couldn't fly because it is daytime," Ron said, pointing out the obvious.

"Wonderful deduction, Sherlock," Harry muttered under his breath sarcastically.

"Anyway, we had to drive. Mom told us that it'd take five hours! So we left early this morning. Though, George drives really quickly so we stopped and got breakfast a bit ago in the next town over. Muggle food is bland," he continued. "I can't wait to eat Hogwarts food again."

Harry nodded in agreement, glancing out the window at the house as they began to drive away. He was free (even if it was only going to be a few weeks), and he couldn't be happier.

—

**So this chapter was super short, but I didn't want it dragging on. They will actually reach the Burrow in the next chapter; I am just tired right now, but I wanted to put out another chapter.**

**The story will pick up soon with the party and my baby Hermione in the next chapter. The party will hopefully be quite fun to read about, with a lot of drama and maybe the blossoming of a pairing. Spoiler~**

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you all will stick around to see what I have in store for this story. I hope you all enjoyed this, and I welcome all comments.**

**Have a nice day/night.**


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